The Island
by Crow's Talon
Summary: When a group of strangers are invited to a reclusive billionaire's private island in the South Pacific Ocean, they become entrenched in a sinister alien conspiracy with few allies and a dwindling chance of escape.
1. Darkness

__Author's Notes: This story is an improved version of a plot idea that I had a long time ago but wasn't sure what to do with until recently. I wanted to make it more of a sci-fi/horror blend this time than straight cosmic horror, although there will be very strong Lovecraftian/Mythos elements in this story.__

* * *

><p><em>Little Red Riding-Hood, when in the street,<em>  
><em>Why do I press your small hand when we meet?<em>  
><em>Why, when you timidly offered your cheek,<em>  
><em>Why did I sigh, and why didn't I speak?<em>  
><em>Why, well: you see - if the truth must appear -<em>  
><em>I'm not your grandmother, Riding-Hood, dear!<em>

_- _Bret Harte, _What The Wolf Really Said To Little Red Riding-Hood_

Specimen V-47 had lived in darkness for almost as long as he could remember. It didn't bother him - after all, he had known nothing but darkness for a very long time, and it was remarkable that he remembered light at all. He preferred the strange dreams that he was subjected to whenever they removed him from his sensory systems, even though he could never remember them afterward. When plugged in, he was merely one of many live specimens in his storage container, sealed in a metal cylinder, held for research and vivisection when necessary.

One of the things that he missed most about being human was a clear memory. His brain was impossibly old and age-addled. He no longer remembered his age, for example, or the names of his loved ones. He only knew that he had been a man - once. It was frustrating that he remembered so little, since all he was physically able to do was think. He could see, but he could only see darkness and others like himself. He could hear, but conversations he could listen to came rarely and the other canisters provided unfriendly company.

Because it no longer affected him, and had no bearing on his life, he did not care about time any more, just as his captors had no regard for temporal things. He became more like the creatures over time than he thought. Like them, he did not care for human feelings, nor did he think about his own. Feelings were ancient vestiges of a useless, murky past. They would not help him, not like this. Emotions threatened to expose him. The creatures did not approve of emotions, nor did they respect or have any concept of individual thought. Thus, he abandoned them, firstly the weaker ones and then the more deep-set ones, last of all the truly ancient, powerful ones such as fear and anger.

It felt almost like sleep. Not normal sleep, of course, but a dreamless, timeless slumber that never began and would never end. If he hadn't been able to see and think, and sometimes talk, he would have thought himself dead. He would have preferred death, frankly. Death wouldn't have been half as dull.

The only thing that kept Specimen V-47 from slipping into the deadened, empty state of the others was his secret.

There was a very small kernel of himself left, hidden away where no one could see it, a part that remembered the man he had been before becoming a numbered specimen, but he never thought about it. The only way he could keep it safe was by hiding it in the back of his memory and locking it up tight. If they knew that he had protected part of his human identity, they would wipe it away, and he couldn't have that.

Whenever they could hear him, and they always seemed to be there, he was Specimen Number V-47 and thought of himself as such. Even when they weren't there, he had to be careful about which memories he accessed. He didn't trust some of his fellow specimens not to tell their masters that Specimen V-47 remembered his real name. He had not been trusting as a man and it was imperative that he remain cautious now, when his very thoughts were being monitored.

The creatures which he now lived under did not like it when he thought beyond what he was supposed to think. Through a combination of coercion and confinement they had all but erased the majority of his memory, leaving shadows of places and people behind. He resented their treatment of him and his imprisonment, but was too tired to complain and helpless to rebel. However, because he still knew who he was, they couldn't rewrite him as they had the others. They tried, of course, but they missed a spot. He wasn't about to correct them. As long as he remembered his human name, there was a small crack of light in his shrouded memory where he couldn't be controlled or rewritten into Specimen V-47. That crack kept him human, and only just sane.

In a way, he was one of the fortunate ones. Since his capture, he had not been taken out for further experimentation once. Instead, they left him plugged into his storage canister to gather dust. Less lucky specimens were vivisected further or taken off-planet, usually never to be seen again. The creatures occasionally came to collect canisters and he overheard their conversations. As a result, he knew something of their own language, just enough to understand that it was nothing like his native tongue. In the past, he had made a few ill-fated attempts to talk with his captors in both his speech and theirs, only to be ignored or rebuked sharply, the latter usually accompanied by forcible removal from sensory systems. After long enough he learned to keep quiet, only faintly registering that the rest of his particular storage container was slowly but surely being emptied of canisters and the creatures' buzzing speech was becoming more agitated.

In the corner of his vision he saw two of the creatures enter the chamber, deep in conversation from his guess. He understood most of their words, mentally translating snatches of what he understood. He looked at the group at first with a cautious interest, a useful trait when dealing with them, not uttering a word in protest or agreement.

"...uncertain...unstable individual...cause problems...remember...stubborn..."

"...not dangerous...no trouble...has been conditioned...harmless now...ideal choice for a prototype..."

The two creatures approached the storage rack, one carrying something under a limb. Specimen V-47's brain flared up with fear, realizing by instinct that it was him that they wanted. He couldn't do anything to stop them, so he let them come and cleared his mind as much as he could. Instead, one of the beings placed another canister beside him, and he, despite his practice carefully hiding his own emotions, could almost feel the terror emanating from the brain inside. A recent captive, probably, who would go quiet soon enough. He had seen new arrivals come before.

Letting his guard down was a mistake he didn't have time to regret. Another creature stepped forward, raising a pincer, and carefully removed Specimen V-47's canister from the rack. Before he could process what had happened, his consciousness blinked out and he fell without a struggle into strange, darkly beautiful dreams.

When the creatures worked, they worked quickly and cleanly and made no messes. Their movements were nimble and dexterous, bringing awe to the few remaining captives, even those who had seen the same operation or something like it performed many times before or even undergone similar things themselves. There was simply nothing like it anywhere else; that they were able to do such terrible and wonderful things with surgery amazed and appalled them.

The hulking creature before them stood lifeless, eyes vacant and dead, limbs hanging uselessly while the finishing touches were made. The last nerves were attached, the scaly skin stitched together, and the thing completely prepared for its new life. The creatures approached, eagerly watching their handiwork with what could have been a perverse sort of affection, if they had any concept of affection.

Suddenly the thing's watery eyes flickered to life, its jaws instinctively clacked shut, and its hands twitched. Specimen V-47 vaguely felt himself move, a feeling that he wasn't used to and hadn't felt in a very long time. He was incredibly tired, as if all of his impossible years had caught up to him. He realized with a start that he was inside of a body again. He could feel a tongue in his mouth, too excited by this discovery to notice that his jaws were more like mandibles or the short, faintly glowing tendrils twisting on his head. He breathed in and out, not caring that his breathing was labored, only delighted that he could breathe at all. Barely aware of the crowd of the creatures surrounding him, Specimen V-47 raised a hand to his face to make sure that what he felt was real and not one of the creatures' tricks.

It was real, but his excitement turned to disgust and finally horror. The hand was not soft and fleshy like it was when he was human, but hideous and hard, coated in a thick pinkish hide. Instead of fingers he had ten wickedly hooked claws. He had a monster's hand, not his own.

He was now a monster himself.

Specimen V-47 tried to scream, to convey the sorrow and rage that he finally could express. He failed even in that, for all that emerged from his misshapen larynx was an inhuman, rasping howl.


	2. Water

Catherine Daniels woke with a start, a scream in her throat, and sat up in her cloth hammock. She looked at her hand, managing a relieved sigh. Only a nightmare. While she didn't really care to remember specific details, she did remember a sensation of floating, and then being surrounded by a crowd of things. She only remembered them as things because they definitely weren't human. For that matter, neither was she. At least her hand wasn't human. She didn't remember what she saw, only that it made her scream.

She shot a look above her at her roommate, a skinny teenager named Adrian Moran. He was fast asleep in his own hammock, face turned away, his form cloaked in the darkness of the room. Of course. Nothing less than a hurricane would wake him up, not even a nightmare. He had been snoring away all night. At least Cathy's screaming hadn't woken the people in the other cabins - while they were strangers, that would have been a very bad note to begin their vacation on. She did know that there was a little girl with them. They probably could do without the child being woken up.

The feeling of floating stayed with her the most, as if she were a fish inside a cramped bowl. Some of the images were there longer than others - the swarm of things surrounding her, the hand - but it was the emptiness that made her feel ill. For a moment, her stomach lurched, and she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to make it to the bathroom in time.

When the wooden floor beneath her feet pitched, she grabbed for the wall by instinct, shaking the sick feeling away. Of _course_. That explained the floating feeling. It wasn't from her nightmare after all - it was only seasickness. She always hated sleeping on board any ship, and the _Hydra _wasn't a luxury ocean liner by any means. She was only a small cruise ship, just big enough for the eight-man crew, the captain, and four passengers. While Cathy wasn't especially demanding, she did have standards, and the _Hydra _didn't meet them. Cathy had a rough cloth hammock in place of a bed while the floor was made of sturdy planks, old enough that somebody who fell off in the night might wake up with a splinter.

The captain, through an email, promised them before boarding that his ship had weathered many a storm, and his employer provided lifeboats in case of a worst-case scenario. All the same, Cathy was beginning to wish that Greer offered an airplane instead. At least the plane would have been faster. She scrunched herself up in her sleeping bag, trying to lull herself to sleep with the rhythm of the waves.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you all right?" Adrian sat up in his hammock, his voice tense.

"I'm fine, really." Cathy sighed, frustrated, leaning on a shoulder. A fine time for her roommate to wake up. While they swapped names on the first day, they had not really spoken since they boarded the _Hydra, _and neither one knew the other. Adrian spent most of his time on his laptop down in the ship's belly while Cathy preferred the deck, at least when the weather was good. She could guess a few things about him from the few interactions they did have - he was a student, judging from his clothes, and he liked science fiction, judging from the posters he scattered all over the wall. All of them had various sci-fi characters and symbols on them, most of which she didn't recognize.

"The bathroom's down the hall. I have pills if you think you're about to throw up." She could hear him rummaging around in his bags. "Here. Catch!" She heard the bottle of pills rattle against the planks. She picked them up and handed them back to their owner.

"No, thanks. It's nothing serious. I just had a nightmare."

She heard Adrian groan before he reached down to take them. "Any time, ma'am. I'm just glad you're okay. Hey, you're _sure _you're not sick? I don't want you throwing up on us."

She wasn't sure at all, but Cathy decided not to answer just to end the conversation. "It was nothing. Just a bad dream. The real problem is that I'm seasick."

"Yeah, you would have thought that Greer could have afforded a better boat. I mean, the man can buy an entire island." The young man turned on his electric lamp. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. Sorry for bothering you."

Cathy gave a sharp nod. A little conversation would calm her down enough to go back to sleep. "It's nothing, really. Pleased to meet you, too."

Adrian smiled. "Hey, sorry I was so quiet earlier. It's just that I felt too shy to say hello, but better late than never. I mean, you're Catherine Daniels, right? The famous one? I love your show - I have all your episodes on tape back at college. I can't believe I'm actually meeting you _in person_! This is awesome." She could see his body trembling in the hammock, probably from excitement. The lamp exposed several more posters behind him, all saying things like _Do You Believe?_ and _Vulcan or Bust_. Some of them were signed. An especially large one with what looked like a photo of Spock's face hung on Cathy's side. She didn't know much about pop culture, but she knew enough to recognize those silly rubber elf ears.

Cathy only nodded, not sure what to say but trying not to sound rude. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Can you turn the lamp off so we can go back to bed? I don't want Spock watching me in my sleep."

Unfortunately, Adrian didn't take the hint. He probably mistook her for encouraging him. "You know what else? I saw that interview you had with Greer a few months ago. It must've been pretty intense up there, but you handled it like a pro." He gave a soft laugh, probably to avoid waking up the others. "Well, of course you did, you're Boston's best reporter. You must've really impressed him to get invited here. What was he like?"

The floor bucked again underneath them and Cathy crawled back into her hammock, feeling like a little girl sleeping on a swingset in a windstorm. She shut her eyes, but Adrian's light was too bright. She wanted to tell him to turn the damn thing off already, but being rude to a fan was a bad idea. "I didn't _meet_ him. The interview was by phone - he said he was too sick to leave his mansion. Something he picked up from his trip in Maine, apparently. He's been like that for months. After that last interview, he moved to his private island for good."

Adrian grinned, looking down from his hammock. "C'mon, I know that. I saw the episode back when it aired. What was talking to him like? Did he talk about Teraton? Anything new they're working on? I'm a big fan of Greer's work - all the stuff they do with DNA over there is wicked cool. Wonder if he'll show us any of his projects? I mean, he's done things out of sci-fi."

"He didn't say much. He just told everyone that he'd be handing over Teraton to his board of directors before he moved to his island for good. For the sake of his health, he told us. I believe him. He really did sound like a mess." Cathy remembered cringing in sympathy at the sound of Greer's pained rasp.

"Poor guy. I mean, I've got asthma, and it can make me sick for weeks." Adrian shuddered. "I know where he's coming from. All I know is that the gossip magazines back home were going nuts about it." He quoted the headlines mockingly. "Greer suffering from rare form of skin cancer! Geneticist abducted by aliens! Billionaire secretly a vampire!"

Cat managed a sharp laugh. She had to admit, that last one was pretty funny. "We should have brought garlic just in case."

"Right, uh, back on a serious topic." She could hear a leathery scuffling as Adrian crawled down from his hammock and onto the floor. "If you don't want any pills to keep from being seasick, you ought to see Captain Dargan. There might be something he can do. I'll come with you if you aren't up to going alone." Cathy got down herself, holding on to the wall when she made it down.

"Thanks for the concern, Mr. Moran, but I'll be fine. I know where his cabin is and I'll yell if I need help." Satisfied, Adrian nodded and let Cathy pass through as he waved goodbye. He was nosy, she thought, but friendly enough. The walk from her hammock to the captain's quarters was a short one, but the rolling floor didn't make the trip any easier. Cathy had to stop and catch her breath on the railing more than once. She listened for the sound of Dargan's sailors passing through. There was only silence, of course.

She was a little frightened of being alone with Captain Dargan, since from what little she saw of him he wasn't particularly social, but the crew were all above deck. If the captain was cold, his crew was worse. They were all silent, distant workers, never stopping to talk to the passengers or even each other. After the boarding, the captain left most of the work to them, never emerging from his private quarters. She heard their footsteps, but never their voices. She was impressed. They had to be very highly trained.

She threw up in her mouth a little as the ship pitched again. No wonder she had nightmares. This whole _trip_ was a nightmare. Donald Greer's private island had better be worth the wait. She collected herself outside the captain's quarters, a simple wooden door with _Captain John Dargan _written in barely-legible black script. She knocked on the door, preparing for an argument. Some captain, who showed such little concern for his passengers' safety! She didn't even remember meeting him back when she boarded the _Hydra _several days ago with the other passengers, the crew ushering everyone into their cabins so fast that they didn't have time to swap names. Of course, he and his crew were all business then, separating the four and herding them into different rooms.

She knocked twice on the door. "Captain Dargan! There's a storm outside, and we're all going to be sick!" Silence. Cathy tried again. "Do you hear me, Captain? There's a storm going on outside and I -" She heard a wheezing cough, scuffling, and a sudden thump as the captain approached the door. He opened it, hobbling outside, body visibly shaking underneath a loose seaman's uniform. His weathered face looked very pale in the dim light of the lamp he held. She suddenly regretted waking him up. He looked seasick, too, much worse than her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "we hear you." He even _sounded_ seasick, as if the inside of his throat had been scraped to bleeding with sandpaper. "The sea does as it will, Miss Daniels. There's nothing we sailors can do. Why, I've been feeling a bit under the weather myself lately." He coughed into his sleeve. He sounded worse than horrible. The slow, bland monotone of his voice gave Cathy the creeps. She immediately felt guilty for being so insensitive. Captain Dargan must have been seriously ill.

Cathy offered a hand, helping the man stay on his feet. "Are you all right? You can come to my room if you'd like. It'll only take a moment. My cabinmate has pills that should help you feel better. I think you need them more than me."

Captain Dargan managed a hoarse laugh, shutting the door behind him. "Don't worry about me, ma'am. I'm an old salt. Tell your roommate to save his pills. It's only a little seasickness. I've felt worse. There is something I can do for all of us - I'll go see if my crew can steady the _Hydra _a little and get everyone feeling a little better." He hobbled past her as she stepped aside to let him through. "Your offer was greatly appreciated. I would consider accepting if we weren't so close to the island."

"Sure. We're landing, you said?"

Another rasping cackle, this one worse than the first. While she trusted Dargan's judgement - Greer chose the man personally - Cathy couldn't hold back an instinctive shudder. "That's right. I've sailed this way before, and I assure you that, if the wind and current stay steady, we'll be at Teraton Island very soon. I suggest going back to your cabin and making sure that all of you have your things packed. You'll be staying with Mr. Greer for several months, as I recall from your letter."

Cathy nodded, grateful that the old captain wasn't angry. Considering how sick he sounded, she wouldn't have blamed him. She could never control her temper when she felt seasick. "I'll go talk to Mr. Moran and let him know that we'll be landing soon. Thanks for the tip-off." The captain silently nodded and shuffled down the hallway before she could wave him good-bye. She followed him as far as the cabin, where she looked in to check if Adrian was awake. He saw her, waving in the darkness.

"You're back! So, how was Captain Dargan?"

Opening her bags, Cathy shook her head in disbelief. "He was even more seasick than me. His voice sounded awful - I told him about your pills, but he didn't want them."

"That's weird. I'm surprised he turned them down if he felt so sick. Any other news?" Adrian sat up in his hammock, revealing plain violet pajamas.

"We're landing soon, in the next few hours. He said we should start packing." Cathy opened her bags, checking for clothes and toiletries. In contrast, Adrian had several bulging bags and a large black trunk. "I'll help if you'd like. From what I saw when we got on board, you've got way more junk than me. Why did you bring those posters?"

"Hey, those are collectibles. I brought them because I'm between apartments and I want to make the island feel like home." Adrian gestured to his poster collection."Y'know, that Spock poster you were laughing at earlier is signed by the guy who got killed by Gary Mitchell back in the pilot episode of _Star Trek_. It cost me fifty dollars on eBay."

Cathy rolled her eyes, hoping that Adrian didn't see. "I don't know who that is, and I'm not really interested. But why did you have to bring so much..._stuff_?"

"Well, I'm staying on a tropical island in the middle of nowhere for the next three months." He shrugged before managing a weak smile. "Want to see my collection?" He counted out his movies on both hands. "I've got a complete set of _Star Trek_ DVDs, including _The Original Series_ and _Deep Space Nine_, all of the movies up to _Nemesis_ - not counting _Galaxy Quest! - _and all nine seasons of _The X-Files_." He sighed. "Who am I kidding? I geek out when I'm nervous. You probably have no idea what I was talking about, do you?"

"No, not really. I just can't believe that I'm spending the next few months with a _Trekkie _of all people. I mean, it's fine if you are, different strokes and all."

"Hey, I'm not _just_ a Trekkie. I love me anything science fiction." Adrian faked embarrassment as he pulled another UFO poster off the wall and rolled it up. "It was my girlfriend back at the University of Vermont who got me into that stuff. She loves it, and, well, I liked it, too - we fell in love over old _X-Files_ reruns. I would have invited her, but Greer only wanted me."

"Look at it this way, you'll have all kinds of stories to tell her when you get home. You met me, for one thing."

"Yeah. I still can't believe it." Shaking his head, Adrian gave her a shy smile. "Well, ma'am, my offer's still good. Give me the word and I'll have us all watching something. If you ask me, this trip could use some loosening up. Everyone's so _nervous_."

Cathy counted her clothes before zipping her backpack tightly shut. Everything was tucked away safely. "Can't say I'm a fan. _Star Trek_ isn't my thing, so don't ask me about it."

"Oh, all right. Give an episode a try, though. You might like it." Adrian gave a thumbs-up as he took down the _Vulcan Or Bust_ poster, handing it to Cathy. "Hey, uh, ma'am, make sure my laptop's locked, okay? There's some important stuff on there. Thanks."

Cathy gave him a quick thumbs-up after testing the laptop's case. Locked tight.

"You're good." She looked up when she heard no reply. "Suit yourself."

Adrian had gone to find the others, an open door behind him, leaving her alone with their bags. Cathy carefully fit the last posters in his trunk before crawling back into the hammock and forcing her eyes shut. She wasn't tired - she just wanted to forget about her meeting with Captain Dargan. That rasping, sickly voice was still buzzing in her ear. For all of her effort, though, she couldn't sleep again for the rest of the trip.


	3. Beach

"All hands on deck!"

Groaning, Cathy opened a weary eye to hear the captain's voice over the intercom. The man sounded much better - although the rasp was still there, his voice rang clear across the boat. He didn't sound sickly at all anymore. She felt much less ill herself, well enough to stand up and stretch. Above her, Adrian slung a red backpack on his back and rapped on the wall to get her attention. He was already dressed, wearing tight blue jeans and a brown college sweatshirt. It looked very loose on his thin body.

"Morning! Sounds like our captain's feeling better. How 'bout you?"

Cathy shrugged, not really in the mood to talk to Adrian. While not sick anymore, she felt horribly tired and wasn't much of a mornings person at the best of times. There wasn't any coffee in the middle of the South Pacific, anyway. "I've been worse."

"Attention, all passengers!" The captain gave a hacking cough over the ship's intercom."We will be mooring at Teraton Island in about fifteen minutes. Make sure that all personal belongings are secured and that your rooms are empty. One of Mr. Greer's personal assistants will be waiting on-site to give you further instructions. I repeat, we will be landing in fifteen minutes. Thank you for sailing with us, and have a good day." Listening to him, Cathy noticed that his voice still had the unsettling rasp from the night before, but sounded much stronger. He must have still been getting over his illness.

"As if we had a choice," Adrian said, more joking than bitter. "Hey, ma'am, got all your stuff? We should meet the others on deck after we change. Captain Dargan said we're landing soon and I'm all ready to go."

"I didn't bring much." Cathy ducked behind the hammock to change into her work clothes, Adrian looking away. "Mostly clothes and a couple notebooks for my job."

"Makes sense. When we get back home, this'll make for a _killer_ story. Greer's probably working on all kinds of secret stuff here - for all we know, he's building a real-world _Jurassic Park_ or something. He's rich enough for that."

"I seriously doubt it," Cathy replied as they crossed the hallway, dragging their luggage along behind. She had to hold back a laugh. For all that Adrian was likable, he had a very vivid imagination. "Greer's a businessman, not a mad scientist. His company makes genetically-modified food. I seriously doubt that cloning dinosaurs is on his to-do list. The biggest thing he's ever cloned is a watermelon."

"Yeah," Adrian said with a wink, "but I can dream, can't I?" Cathy couldn't disagree with that. She looked around for crewmembers, only to see no one there. They must have all been waiting on deck. This walk was much easier for both of them, mostly because no one got seasick. Her stomach felt much better, and even Adrian, ever excitable, looked a little more steady on his feet. The _Hydra_'s crew really knew what they were doing. She would have thanked them if one of the sailors had been around.

Once on-deck, Adrian found a chair to sit in with his laptop while Cathy decided to wander around the boat. The sailors brushed past her when they came by, never speaking a word. The two other passengers were waiting by the left side of the boat - a woman, slightly younger than Catherine, and her small daughter. The little girl was in the middle of a handheld video game while her mother looked out at the sea. Cathy would have guessed that the girl was about ten years old. The young woman noticed her with a start, gently prodding the girl away from her game.

"You'll have the whole trip to play _Battle Beasts_, Sam. Say hello to that nice lady over there. We'll be spending the next three months with her."

"I'm bored, Mom," Sammy said, not looking away from the screen. "I don't want to talk."

"_Please_, Sammy. We'll be living with these people on the island." She shook her head, frustrated. "Sorry about this. My daughter's been in a bit of a mood since we left the house, and she isn't up for talking. I gave her that video game to keep her busy. She said that the trip - in her words - was 'boring'. I mean, how is a three-month vacation in the tropics boring? We'll have beaches, animals, beautiful landscapes..."

Cathy laughed. "Well, I can't say she's wrong. I haven't exactly had the time of my life, either, and I'd be pretty bored at her age. Maybe she'll perk up once we land."

"Hope so. I brought a camera so we can take pictures of the island. I mean, I've always wanted to visit the tropics, but I never had the time or the money and I had to raise Sammy alone." The young woman shrugged. "My name's Heather. Heather Clevenger. Nice to meet you. Say... you look familiar. You aren't Cathy Daniels from _Eleven O' Clock With Catherine Daniels_, are you?"

"Actually," Cathy said, deciding to get it over with, "yes, I am."

"It's always a bit shocking to meet celebrities in the real world," Heather replied, slinging an arm around Cathy's shoulder. "You look just like you do on TV, you know. Just between you and me, the last few episodes have been a bit sub-par, in my opinion - interview more show people and less businessmen. They're boring as _hell_."

"I don't choose the people who go on my show. My bosses do, and they like those guys, not me."

Heather threw back her head and laughed. "Makes sense. No wonder you look half-asleep when you interview them!"

Cathy waved the criticism away. "Thanks, Heather. So, what are you going to do with the photos you take? I'm sure there's a lot of things to see on Teraton Island. Probably some exotic animals, too. It's not on the map - very few people have ever been there."

"The usual. Slap them onto a hard drive once I get home and make a pretty slideshow out of 'em. I don't really care about the genetics stuff. To be honest, I find it kind of creepy. I'm here for the sunshine and tropical breezes, yes-sirree. I think Greer invited me because I'm working on a magazine article about his work back home. How 'bout you, Miss Daniels?"

Before Cathy could answer, she heard the captain calling out from his perch on the deck. "We have now landed on Teraton Island. Make sure that all of your things are with you. Items left behind will not be returned until the boat comes back in three months' time." He sprang down, gesturing to his crewmates, who silently scuttled into the ship's bowels. "Mr. Greer's assistant will provide you with further instructions. Our job is over. We hope that you enjoy your stay."

Cathy was sort of relieved to see them go. While they showed themselves to be highly competent, something about how silent and businesslike they were bothered her. On hearing the captain, Cathy saw Adrian put his backpack back on and come to join them. Heather gestured for Sam to put her video game away, which she did reluctantly. Cathy took the opportunity to take a look at the island itself while the ship docked. She wasn't sure what to expect, honestly.

It wasn't really out of the ordinary for a small tropical island - lush, bright, and covered in green. There was no visible sign of development or Teraton's factories, although by logic there had to be at least one. Greer not only lived but worked here. There had to be something to show it, most likely at the heart of the island. Then again, Greer probably didn't want to damage his home's environment any more than was necessary. She couldn't blame him at all. In the daylight, Teraton Island was gorgeous.

"It's beautiful," Heather said, reaching for her camera. "I mean, look at it. We're spending three months here. Put that laptop away, young man. You've got the beauty of nature here to look at instead."

Adrian looked up from his computer. "I'd look, but I'm trying to get my crummy Internet to connect. I wanted to email my girlfriend back in Vermont and tell her that we've arrived, but there's no wireless here. I would have thought the researchers used it for their work if nothing else."

Cathy shook her head. "Honestly, three months away from the Web won't kill you, Adrian." Adrian, a hurt look on his face, was about to reply when the ship finally came in to land. Cathy shuddered as the Hydra came in to dock. Adrian hurriedly slipped his laptop into his backpack, almost dropping it more than once. Sam clung on to her mother's pants.

The captain took over ushering the four off the ship, not even bothering to wish them good luck or say good-bye, only telling them in his painful rasp to step off in a single-file line. Once Cathy made it to the beach, she saw him disappear into his personal quarters without a word, not even talking to the crew. Her guess was that the man needed to sleep off his seasickness before departure, which was understandable enough.

"Well, now what?" Heather asked.

"Captain Dargan said that Greer's personal assistant would come and take over. I guess we wait for him." Cathy scanned the beach, seeing if there was something any of them could do to pass the time. She saw miles of sand ahead, several rotting fish skeletons, and something else. While she couldn't see it very clearly, something in her head told her that it was important. Leaving the others behind, she approached the thing cautiously, trying not to breathe in too much of the rotten fish stink. What she saw made her gasp out loud.

The thing was a footprint, but a footprint from an animal she had never seen before. There were a group of them all over the sand on a closer look, but this one was the most clear. It could best be described as a cross between a pincer and a hoof, roughly human-sized but inhuman in every way possible. The footprint's shape reminded her the most of a giant cockroach walking on two legs, if any roach got that big. She knew that there could be rare animals on the island, but this was too large to be anything local, and just looking at it gave her a chill.

When she reached out to touch it, she heard someone behind her clear his throat. "See anything, Ms. Daniels?"

The rasping voice jolted her away from the footprint. She whirled to see a young man in a lab coat and glasses, not more than thirty years old, standing in the undergrowth beside the beach. His face was pasty, almost solid white, and his hair was a tangle of brown string. He gave a stiff bow on seeing her. "No, no, I didn't. I was just wondering what made this track. It isn't like anything I've ever seen before. Is it some kind of animal?"

"A good question. There are many rare animals on this island, including a certain species of large flightless bird. We believe that it is a relative of the South Pacific kakapo, only significantly larger. We have seen them around our facility and across the island, although we have been unable to capture a living specimen for scientific study. I suspect one was the creature which made your footprint, although it has since been damaged by the wind and erosion. That's why it looks so strange."

Cathy nodded, but her eyes didn't leave the footprint. The man's explanation made sense, but the creepy sensation that it gave her didn't go away. "Makes sense," she said, a little shakily. "Greer sent you to get us, right?"

The young man slowly nodded. "My name is Lesley Osbert, and I am the personal assistant of Donald Greer. He told me that the four of you would be waiting on the beach and he told me to bring you into our main facility. While none of the animals on our island are dangerous, I must warn you that it is extremely easy to get lost."

There was something familiar about his voice. It was younger and clearer than Captain Dargan's, but the same ugly rasp lay underneath. From someone as young as Lesley Osbert, the dissonance was jarring. He sounded a lot older than he looked. "Mr. Osbert?"

"Yes?"

Cathy stood to face him as Adrian came over with the others. "Something's wrong with your voice. Are you all right? You might have caught something from Captain Dargan."

"I've got pills," Adrian said, reaching into his bag. "They're for breathing trouble, you see - I take them when I'm not feeling well. They might help you."

Lesley gave a hoarse laugh. "The sentiment is appreciated, Mr. Moran, but I am merely getting over a recent cold. I sound much worse than I really am, I assure you. Mr. Greer is the only person on this island who is truly ill. Be assured that he is delighted to hear of your arrival and is both ready and willing to meet with you, but I must let you know that he has a rare and detrimental skin condition that prevents him from leaving the facility. To meet him, you will have to go inside."

Adrian shrugged. "Fine by us, Mr. Osbert. As long as he feels okay, of course. We don't want him to hurt himself."

"His illness has gotten worse?" Cathy asked. "I knew that he was sick, but not that he was too sick to go outside."

Lesley shook his head. "His condition is so severe that he cannot bear the sun for even a moment. He has taken to wearing sunglasses for protection against the light, and must stay in the darkness during daylight hours. He hopes that you understand his situation. Now, there are a few requests I have to make for the protection of our company's secrets. Nothing too harsh, I assure you, but we do have our rules."

"Fine by us," Heather said. "What are they?"

"All telephone calls and access to the Internet are blocked. It's nothing personal. We have things in the works here which will not be revealed to the general public for some time, and we don't want the surprise spoiled. We hope you understand."

Adrian grimaced. "Since you put it that way, it makes sense. I brought movies, though, so it's not as if my laptop's useless."

"You are a very quick thinker, Mr. Moran," Lesley said. "Ah, and there is one other rule. No cameras are permitted in the facility, either flash or any other kind. I apologize for any inconvenience that this may cause. If any of you have a camera on your person, it must be handed over to me. No exceptions, I'm afraid. That includes cell phones. They will be returned when you go home in three months' time."

Cathy reached into her pocket, handing over her cell phone. It didn't bother her- she didn't need it anyway. To her surprise, however, Heather didn't give Lesley her own phone, instead shooting Cathy and Adrian a desperate look. _Don't blow my cover_. When Lesley turned away, satisfied, Cathy pulled Heather away to confront her.

"What the hell are you thinking?" She tried to keep her voice to a whisper, trying not to draw Lesley's attention. Fortunately, Lesley seemed more interested in looking at the bird tracks on the beach. "Lesley told us to hand them over."

Heather looked around, eyes wide. "You're not going to believe me, but something told me to hold onto it and to keep it away from Lesley. Without our phones or the Internet, we already have no way to make contact with the mainland if we need help or something."

"This is ridiculous. Look, Heather, I know you were looking forward to taking pictures of the island, but Mr. Osbert -"

"Look, I just have a hunch that keeping one on us is important. I don't know why, but something in my head says we need to hold on to it. I won't use it or take it out, so I won't be breaking the no-photography rule. I just want to have it with me. Okay? I'm trusting you not to rat me out."

Cathy reluctantly nodded. This sounded risky, but Heather did raise a good point, and as long as she kept her promise not to take any pictures they wouldn't get caught. "All right, but you can't take any photos. I don't want this vacation ruined because you didn't follow one rule."

"Weird rule, if you're asking me," Adrian said, a little bitterly. "What's the point of seeing all this cool stuff if we can't take any photos? Especially since they shut down our Internet. Seriously, what was up with that? They don't trust us? Then _what was the point of inviting us_?"

"There's a good chance that this stuff is so cutting-edge that Greer hasn't patented it yet. He's probably afraid of having his secrets stolen or smuggled off the island. It's a little paranoid, but understandable." Cathy shot Heather a look. "So don't give him any reason to be suspicious."

"A-_hem_."

Lesley Osbert came over from examining the footprints, Cathy noticing for the first time that his step was as strange as his voice. He seemed to stumble, as if his leg was twisted, and had a painful-looking stagger. He didn't seem to be in pain, though. "Mr. Osbert, did you hurt yourself?"

Lesley grinned. "Oh, that. I had a nasty fall a couple days ago. I'm quite all right, but it gave me a bad limp. I'd already taken some painkillers for it before I came to meet you. That's why I turned down your drugs, Mr. Moran - one isn't supposed to mix medicines, you see. Now, we really ought to get going. Mr. Greer will be expecting us."

He gestured for them to enter the forest. "Follow me in single file, if you please. Oh, and I brought some insect repellent from the main facility. We do have several native species of mosquitoes and biting flies. We don't want any of you getting tropical diseases, do we?" He handed Heather a cylinder-shaped can of bug spray. "You first, Miss Clevenger, and then the girl."

As she waited her turn, Cathy looked at the part of the shore where she had seen the strange footprints. She saw nothing there.


	4. Helix

Lesley led the four deep into the forest, where the island's natural beauty wrenched Cathy's mind away from the footprint she saw on the beach. She wished that Greer hadn't demanded their cameras, since even the trees were like nothing she had ever seen back home in the city. They were tall, lush, and loaded with colorful fruits. What surprised her most was that there were so few animals the deeper they got into the trees. None of the flightless birds that Lesley mentioned which lived around the main facility appeared, and when a large bird with colorful blue-and-black feathers flew screeching in front of them everyone but Lesley jumped back from fright. Even Sam, back to playing _Battle Beasts_, was startled.

"That," Lesley said, his rasp making his voice difficult to understand," would merely be a native member of the genus _Paradisaea, _the birds-of-paradise_. _We are currently in the process of studying that particular species, which was previously unknown to science. While it is startling, the birds-of-paradise are not dangerous animals."

Heather watched the bird-of-paradise fly away into the trees. "We know it's not dangerous, Mr. Osbert. We just jumped because it surprised us. We don't know the wildlife here like you do."

"A valid excuse." Lesley gestured for them to follow. "Come along. The main facility is not far from here. We are in the process of preparing a beach house for your stay, but until it is ready we ask that you make do with the rooms we have arranged. We have done the best we could to make them comfortable and suitable for each of you."

Cathy wasn't particularly surprised by that. It was a little annoying, but Adrian had a good point that staying together would be a good chance to get to know one another. "That's fine. As long as we aren't sleeping in the jungle, your setup will be okay by me."

Lesley gave another stiff nod. "Your patience is appreciated, Miss Daniels."

The only thing on the walk that really bothered her was that, the closer they got to the heart of the forest, the fewer bird calls they heard. She would have expected the opposite. While she didn't voice her concerns to Lesley or the others, the silence was unsettling. Her guess was that Greer's development earlier scared all of the animals away. Lesley probably would have said as much - he was predictable.

"You said that Mr. Greer is sick. Now, he's a big hero of mine and I think his work on genetically modified food is awesome, so don't take this the wrong way." Adrian ran up alongside Lesley, who didn't even look at him. "Is he too sick to see us? He doesn't have to - whatever's wrong with him sounded serious, and I don't want him getting worse just for us."

Lesley gave a hoarse laugh with a hint of buzzing to it. "Your concern is understandable, but Greer is perfectly all right as long as he stays in the facility. His illness only makes his skin sensitive and damaged his voice. He is always eager when overseeing our work, and you would never guess that he is ill when he is up and about."

Adrian made a noise as if to offer his pills again, but seemed to decide that it would be rude and stopped mid-sentence. He looked cautiously at Cathy, who gave him a weak smile. "If it'll help you feel better, I'll watch an episode of _Star Trek_ with you later. You pick the episode." He immediately brightened and shot a thumbs-up.

"Thanks," he said, letting Lesley go ahead, "but it's Mr. Greer I'm worried about. He sounds really sick. I hoped he'd gotten a little better after he stayed here for a while."

"It looks like everyone's sick here. I wonder if there's something going around." Cathy shuddered.

"I will give you that their voices do sound horrible. I'm surprised Lesley talks so much. If I were him, I'd keep quiet to help my throat." Adrian gave a quiet laugh.

Lesley cleared his throat, standing in the center of the pathway. "Attention, please. That includes you, Miss Clevenger, you can play your game later. It is important that all of you listen to me." Sam quickly stopped playing Battle Beasts. "We are very near Teraton's main facility on this island,and Mr. Greer asked me to give you the rules for your stay. It is important that you not talk to our faculty without direct authorization from myself or Mr. Greer, since we do important and delicate work here. Any plant or animal specimens here are not to be interacted with to avoid contamination. We cannot afford to have the health of our specimens compromised."

"Will you let us see any of them?" Adrian asked, sounding a little disappointed. "I really admire Mr. Greer's work, and I get that you have to keep some stuff secret, but we were hoping that we could have a look around."

To Cathy's surprise, Lesley agreed."There are a few areas that Mr. Greer could be persuaded to open to visitors. In any case, I expect that over the next few months you four will become very familiar with the work we do here at Teraton."

"Sammy's only a girl," Heather said. "They haven't taught this stuff in her bio class yet." Adrian started to reply, but never got the chance.

Lesley laughed hoarsely, and Sam hid next to her mother. "You're never too young to learn, Ms. Clevenger. Now, we really should get going. Mr. Greer and my coworkers will be expecting us soon, and we don't want to be late."

"Don't be rude, Sammy," Heather said, urging her daughter out of hiding. "Mr. Osbert said he isn't feeling well. That's why he sounds strange."

Sam came out, but cautiously, and she refused to look at Lesley. "I don't like him. I don't know why. I just don't."

Cathy had to agree with Sam. While they had no choice but to follow Lesley, she didn't like him at all. The rules that he imposed on them were irritating, even if she understood why they were there, and something about him was off. Maybe it was his voice, his limp, or a combination of the two. She couldn't wait to get out from under his watch. With any luck, maybe Mr. Greer could be convinced to turn their Internet and phone connections back on and they wouldn't have to deal with Lesley Osbert's demands again.

Heather gave an exhausted sigh. "God, I'm too old for this. I don't, either, but we've got to do what he says until we get fixed up in our room. Then we can have a break and you can play _Battle Beasts_. Wouldn't you like that?"

"I guess." Sam saved her game and turned it off, giving it to Heather. "I was halfway through when he told me to put it away. It's out of batteries now. We can recharge it in my room, right?"

"Yeah, sure." Heather put the game in her bag. "Hey, Cathy, help me keep an eye on her so she doesn't take it back. She can be pretty sneaky."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Mom, _please_. The stupid thing's dead. I can't play any more _Battle Beasts_ anyway."

"Come on, you two. Mr. Osbert said we need to move." Cathy, checking that the other three were following, led them deeper into the forest with Lesley. The sounds of wildlife were now completely silent while the trees were sparser, with some evidence of human activity. Several were cut down while others were splintered or charred, giving the clearing an unfinished appearance. In the middle was Teraton's main laboratory, surprisingly large for the small number of people living there, three floors high and with the lights off.

She thought for a moment that no one was there, but Lesley stood in front of the sliding doors and slipped his identification card through a slot embedded in the wall. It gave a high-pitched beep before the doors opened in a matter of moments. Before anyone could say a word, Lesley gestured for them to come inside, the four visitors following him into the building before the doors slid shut behind them.

The Teraton laboratory was not a particularly friendly-looking building. The walls were a bleached white, giving the entire room an unpleasantly sterile feeling. Besides Lesley himself, Cathy saw several more researchers in lab coats scuttling through the room, never once stopping to talk to one another or greet Lesley and the newcomers, even to ask who they were. Cathy assumed that the scientists already knew that they were coming and Lesley cleared them ahead of time, but they could have put on a friendly appearance at least.

She quickly noticed something even more unsettling on a second glance. Every one of the Teraton scientists had a similar shuffling walk to Lesley, although not as severe. All of them couldn't have been hurt at the same time. What was more, they were almost interchangeable, with pale faces, blank expressions, and glazed eyes. They reminded her of ants or bees more than people. She considered asking him what was going on but thought better of it. Any answer he gave wouldn't be very helpful and his droning voice was no less creepy. She forced herself to look away from the researchers. Just watching them walk looked painful.

Lesley coughed, and they all looked up. "Now you've all gotten settled. Good. If I may have your attention, please, Mr. Greer is waiting in his private room on the third floor. Follow me." He led them over to an elevator at the back of the room, pressing a button and showing them in when it came. No one spoke on the way up, even Lesley, who hunched in the corner and checked the time on his watch. When it slid open, he silently led them through an empty hallway, with no sign of any scientists or workers outside of several locked offices.

Curiosity overcame Cathy when she saw that one of the doors was slightly ajar. She wasn't sure whether to look inside, but she felt the same sensation that she did on the beach. Something in that office was important. Checking to see that Lesley wasn't around, she looked inside, seeing a cup of coffee on the table, a discarded lab coat, and several objects lying in shadow. On first glance, two of them looked like rubber gloves, although she got a creepy feeling from them that kept her from getting any closer. While she tried to get a look at the third object, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She whirled, afraid that it was Lesley, but it turned out to only be Adrian. He yanked his hand back right away. "Sorry about that. Lesley sent me back to get you. Just between the two of us, what did you see in there? Anything cool? I won't tell anyone."

"There were a couple of gloves. They probably belong to the scientist who works there. I saw something else, too, but the room was too dark for me to get a good look at it. Sorry. It wasn't anything too impressive."

Adrian was visibly disappointed. "That's okay. They must be doing some pretty serious science in there if they're leaving gloves lying around. Come on - Mr. Greer's room is on this floor and Lesley needs you before we go in."

"Don't tell him I saw the gloves. I wasn't supposed to look in there, but something told me to. I'm not sure what, but it wasn't my idea. It was the same sensation I had on the beach. There were footprints from some kind of giant insect-"

"Your secret's safe with me, ma'am. I'm just sorry you didn't get to see anything cool. Now come on, I'm not gonna miss meeting Donald Greer himself because you went poking around in the offices." Adrian led Cathy to Lesley and the others. Sam was still trying to avoid Lesley by hiding beside her mother.

Lesley waved in a greeting, standing beside a closed door. Cathy could read the words DONALD T. GREER on a bronze plate.

"So you've finally come to join us, Ms. Daniels! We were concerned that you had gotten lost, and I sent Mr. Moran back to find you. I can see that he was successful. I'm afraid my part in this journey is now over, although I will be available in my office on the first floor if you ever need my assistance. I doubt you will - you seem like a capable band of travelers. Very clever, too." He knocked twice on the door. "Mr. Greer, your guests are here to see you." Nodding to an unseen speaker, he opened the door, almost shoving Cathy inside. Before she could say good-bye to him, he was gone, only the slam of the door and a distant flapping in his wake. She wasn't sorry to see him go.

She gathered her wits about her to look around the dark room, trying to adapt to the lack of light. There was no sign of Donald Greer or anyone else, only several shelves stuffed with thick, dusty books. She tried to look at the titles, but there were no lights, natural or artificial, making it almost impossible to see. The only other sign that something human lived there was a chair with something still and shadowed on it.

"Mr. Greer?" Adrian called out the name while Cathy saw something else beside the door covered by red cloth. She lifted it slightly, revealing a large, thick, faintly luminous tank with something motionless inside.

She couldn't get a good look at its features, only that it was slightly bigger than a human and that something about it seemed faintly familiar. She caught glimpses of what could have been a coiled tail and a pair of small membranous wings. Its chest was slowly moving in and out. If it hadn't been breathing, she would have thought that it was dead, it was so still. There was a plate on the tank's base labeling the creature _Specimen V-47_. Curious, she lightly rapped the glass on its tank, jumping when an eye flickered open and the thing looked directly at her. The eye was large and black, generally shaped like the eye of an insect, but with something unmistakably _intelligent_ behind it.

"Get away from that container! The animal in there is extremely dangerous."

Cathy turned, startled as much by the strength of the speaker's voice as the now-familiar rasp in it. She quickly dropped the cloth and covered the creature back up. "Sorry. I just got curious - I didn't see much of what was inside." She now realized that there was a man in the chair, completely in shadow, clutching a book. His face was mostly hidden, but she caught glimpses of scraggly blond hair and a short beard. He wore a long green jacket over gangling limbs.

The figure laughed. "No need to apologize. No harm done. You were curious, an understandable motivation. Why, curiosity is why we do what we do here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Donald T. Greer, chief scientist and owner of Teraton. You and your friends can have a seat if you would like. I won't be keeping you for long. It's late and you have your rooms to get to."

"We've met before, Mr. Greer," Cathy said as the others joined her. "You called me on my TV show for an interview."

"I remember you. The ace reporter." Greer put down his book, straightening in his chair. "Sorry I'm not up for a proper reception - I caught something during my trip in Maine that makes my skin sensitive to the light. There isn't treatment for my illness at the moment, unfortunately, but we hope to work on a cure in the future."

Adrian stepped forward, trembling with excitement. "Mr. Greer, I really admire your work - it's why I'm going for a biology major in college. I want to work with DNA myself one day, like you do."

Greer gave an approving nod. "A fine choice, my dear boy. Maybe one day you will work for Teraton. We could always use a pair of young hands. Your biology grades at your college were extraordinary. Why else do you think I chose you to join me here?" Adrian smiled, his face almost glowing with pride.

"Sorry to interrupt, but what was that thing in the tank?" Cathy asked. "Are you allowed to tell us what it is? It's okay if you can't, but it didn't look like anything I've ever seen before."

Greer leaned back, shooting the covered tank a quick look. "The animal inside that container is the first of a new transgenic species that we have developed - we hope to breed more of them and harvest their tissues for medicinal purposes. While it is alive, to keep its genetic material fresh, it is under heavy sedation and can neither hear nor see you. However, this particular individual is highly aggressive and it took several of our finest workers to put it in confinement in the first place. That is how Mr. Osbert was injured - he probably told you that he recently fell to stop you from being concerned, but the creature attacked and mauled him as we were moving it."

Cathy nodded, but part of her was not so sure that the creature hadn't seen her. She could have sworn that one of those large black eyes was fixed directly on her own, as if it was trying to tell her something.

Adrian whistled. "That pet of yours must be pretty strong if it could do _that_ to someone. Poor guy. No wonder he's such a mess. How did you make it?"

"What we are doing on this island is completely legal - it is non-sapient, merely a kind of livestock. A cow or sheep for the next generation, made with a sort of genetic cocktail. We have a few kinks in the genetic material to work out, such as the aggressive tendencies I mentioned earlier, and it will be some time before we introduce them to the world. I must warn you not to go near it, since it is unpredictable and easily able to kill a human. Osbert would like it to be destroyed, although I think that would be a waste of an otherwise fine specimen."

Heather came to the front to confront Greer, Sam by her side. "What about Mr. Osbert? He took our phones. We need them back - shouldn't we be able to talk to our friends and families? I mean, sure, what he said made sense, but we have the right to stay in touch with the mainland."

"I shall have a word with Mr. Osbert, be assured." Greer coughed, as if reminding them of his illness. "He has been a little irritable after his injury. However, we must hold on to your devices until a compromise is reached. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. Until then, you should find other ways to entertain yourselves. Now, to your sleeping arrangements. We have rooms arranged for you on the second floor. Mr. Moran and Ms. Daniels, you are in Room 216. Ms. Clevenger, you and your daughter are in Room 217. Feel free to decorate your rooms any way you would like. Make yourselves at home. Our only request is that you do not leave the building without the proper authorization - it is easy to get lost here at night, and the sea cliffs on our island are dangerous."

"Thank you, Mr. Greer," Adrian said, bowing his head slightly. "I mean, for what you said earlier. I'm a big fan, as I said."

Greer gave a throaty cackle. "It is always a pleasure to meet someone who appreciates our work and our potential. You could make a fine Teraton employee one day. We could use someone of your intelligence and vision. Now, it's getting late and you have a lot to do tomorrow. Why not have a rest first? I can call Mr. Osbert and he will show you to your rooms for the night."

"No." This time Sam spoke, in a loud and clear voice that sounded more mature than usual. "We can find our own rooms, Mr. Greer. Tell Mr. Osbert that we do not need his help."

Cathy heard the man hunched in the chair breathe in, almost like a hiss, unable to hide the concealed anger behind it. "Are you sure, my girl? Mr. Osbert is not as bad as he looks. He's just a little grumpy because of his bad leg. Give him a week and he'll be right as rain."

Sam shook her head, holding her ground. Cathy was surprised to see her acting so brave, although something else about her seemed strange. Sam's eyes were glazed over, as if something else was looking out through her. "Tell him that we can find our way without him, thank you."

"Very well, then, I will. But do take care, Ms. Clevenger. You are a very smart little girl, and I would hate to lose such a promising young visitor." Greer settled back in his chair with another wheezing cough. "Don't worry about me, I'll be quite all right. I could use a rest, however, before we speak again in the morning. I have a lot to discuss with the four of you over the next several months."

Turning away from Greer, Sam pressed the elevator button. "Follow me," she said, her voice still a bland monotone. Once the others stepped in, her body seemed to loosen, as if something had let go of her. She rubbed her eyes, tired.

"Sam," Heather said, kneeling, "are you all right? You were very rude to Mr. Greer."

Sam shrugged. "No, I wasn't. I didn't say anything to him. You were asking him about our phones, and then we were in the elevator. Did I fall asleep, Mom?"

The elevator stopped on the second floor, Adrian taking over, still excited over Greer's compliments. During the walk to Room 216, he talked in Cathy's ear about how awesome it was to be congratulated on his biology grades by Donald Greer himself, the greatest geneticist of the twenty-first century. Cathy tried to put up with it as best she could. Adrian admired Greer a lot more than she did. For all the man's great work, his voice still gave her the creeps.

"He said that he could see me working for Teraton when I'm older. _Teraton_! I still can't believe it, Cathy. You know, it's just great to meet my personal hero and learn that he's a really cool guy. It's too bad he's so sick. It must be terrible to sit cooped up in a dark room like that so much." Adrian opened the door, watching Heather and Sam walk by. Heather had an arm around Sam, holding her close. Whatever happened in Greer's quarters must have deeply bothered them.

Cathy was all too happy to find the bathroom, wash and change, and put on a nightdress before crawling into her bed to sleep. Adrian, in a separate bed beside her, was already fast asleep and snoring. Unsurprised, Cathy turned off her own light before falling into a fitful sleep and troubled dreams.


	5. Whispers

Unlike the first time, Cathy was aware to some degree that she was dreaming. She looked around to get a bearing on her surroundings, breathing in musty air as her eyes grew used to the darkness. She was in an old farmhouse, judging from its style, early twentieth century at the latest, dimly lit and ominously quiet, right out of a photograph. It looked comfortable enough, and she would have liked to get a closer look, but something kept her from settling down, least of all the fact that its owner wasn't there. It didn't feel right to look through his house without asking. Looking out the window, she saw dense maple trees, their leaves red and gold, and a moonless sky. It reminded her of the forests she sometimes visited in Maine or Vermont. While thinking, she heard the sound of something moving in a far corner and turned to face it, not sure what to expect. She backed up a little, since she didn't have a weapon in case the figure attacked.

The figure turned out to be a man in his late fifties, judging from his weathered face and gray hair. To Cathy's relief, he didn't see her, instead focusing on a piece of paper in front of him. He sat at a wooden table covered in books, hunched over and in the middle of writing something. He turned, revealing a neatly trimmed gray mustache and beard. Cathy guessed that he was the farmhouse's owner. He looked fairly well-built for his age, with a wiry toughness and desperate intelligence about him.

"Hello," Cathy said, cautiously waving to get his attention. It would be rude not to try, and maybe he could tell her where they were. "This is your house, right? Who are you? Where are we?"

He didn't even turn around, muttering something softly that she couldn't make out. She wasn't frightened of him, but did have an unsettling sense that she had met him before. She didn't know where - she didn't recognize his face or voice. Before she could try talking to him again, she heard a snarling sound from close by, and her heart jumped in her chest.

There was a large German shepherd sitting on its haunches next to the old farmer, several other big dogs moving around in the shadows, five at least. Their ears were pricked, as if they were waiting for something, and the one beside him had a growl deep in its throat, its fangs bared. Cathy stepped back by instinct, even though she knew that the dogs and their owner didn't see her. The one closest to her looked almost ready to bite. The farmer stroked the dog's head and rubbed it behind the ears to calm it down while his features turned grim. Its growling softened, but only slightly. She guessed that he was trying to calm himself down more than the dog.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Cathy heard him say, although his voice shook and he was looking at the door to the farmhouse, shut tight and barred. He didn't believe his own words. She saw his eyes dart next to a large hunting rifle leaning against his chair, as if it would be needed at a moment's notice. Even if the man was a hunter, which was her first guess, why would he have a big-game gun like that on him? The hunters she knew in Boston didn't have anything near that size, let around leave it lying around that casually. Most of them didn't have half as many hunting dogs, either.

The old farmer himself was clearly every bit as nervous as the dogs, judging from the terror Cathy saw in his eyes. It was the look of an animal chased down to near death, filled with exhaustion, despair, and a complete lack of hope. She couldn't stand to look at him for too long; between the pity she felt and the sense that she somehow knew him, it was almost unbearable.

Scanning the room, she saw burn marks and bullet holes in the walls. The other dogs caught up on the first's reaction, snarling as if they could also sense something nearby. Something was definitely wrong, and with the door shut there was no way out. With a thrill of horror, she started to have an idea of what the gun and the dog pack were there for. The man wasn't a hunter. He was being _hunted_, and the reporter in her wanted to know by what.

Trying to avoid him, she came closer to look at his desk for clues, relieved that he still didn't notice her. It looked at least as old as the house itself, covered in a a mess of letters, opened books, and assorted junk. Clearly the farmer was too frightened to keep his house clean. There was a partly finished letter, only lit by a weak candle, and an envelope with two names on it that she didn't recognize. The first name was Albert H. Wilmarth, addressed to a town in Massachusetts. The sender, probably the man sitting beside her, was Henry W. Akeley.

Before she could get a closer look at what the letter said, the buzzing started up from outside.

It was harsh and loud enough to distract her immediately, and the farmhouse's inhabitants reacted just as quickly. The dogs started howling and the old farmer - Akeley, she corrected herself, the man had a name - immediately snapped to attention, opening the door and letting the pack race outside with ferocious barks before he slammed it shut, testing the lock and barring the door. Once satisfied, he grabbed the gun and opened the window, hunching underneath to make himself a smaller target. Judging from how quickly he moved, this wasn't the first time this had happened. Cathy joined him there, not surprised when he didn't seem to see her. It felt like being

She looked outside, wondering what was frightening him so badly. She couldn't see anything, but the fear she saw in his eyes was real. The trees outside were so dense that it was almost impossible to see. She was impressed that Akeley could see well enough in the darkness to aim his gun properly. Then again, he probably knew the area better than she did and had almost certainly faced the buzzing creatures before.

On a second look, she noticed several figures moving in the darkness, some human and some _not_. It was difficult to get a clear look at them, but she saw a blurred figure with broad wings and multiple legs against the night sky mid-dive. There was a shot, and another of the winged creatures fell with a thump and more high-pitched buzzing, mortally wounded.

The man aimed and fired again after knocking down the creature, not pausing a moment to savor his victory, grim determination on his face. She saw the defeated look in his eyes. He knew that the creatures were going to win, but was going to hold them off as long as possible and take as many of them with him as he could. She felt sorry for him, but covered her ears as gunfire broke out again, more intense than before. She searched the house for a place to hide as the buzzing grew even louder. Whether she was dreaming or not, she wanted to stay out of it.

She covered her ears as he fired, the gunshots driving her behind the desk, particularly when the things outside started firing back. She thought about going for the door, but the shooters - and the unseen buzzing creatures - were waiting outside, and her hand passed through the knob like water. As frightening as it was, she had to stay in the farmhouse, safe so long as the outside things didn't get in. She wondered whether there was something she could do to help, and offered to, but the man didn't seem to hear her. The only things she heard were gunshots from both sides, the snarling and pained yelping of the dog pack outside, and the horrible buzzing. She ultimately decided to stand in a corner to avoid the shooting - she was unarmed and, unlike the old farmer, had never fired a gun. All she could do was try and stay out of their way. At one point, a bullet almost grazed her shoulder, and she heard the farmer gasp. Clearly it came even closer to him.

As the fight continued, the doorknob began to rattle as if something outside was trying to break in. The man was too focused on holding back the creatures to notice the danger. The whole scene gave her a sick feeling, and she knew that something very bad was about to happen.

"Look behind you!" Cathy pointed to the door, the rattling growing ever louder as the thing tried to force its way through. She grabbed at the farmer's shoulder, only for her hand to slip through. She felt a chill run through her body, and she pulled it back immediately. "Mister Akeley! Look! There's something trying to get in!"

It was locked, and the lock firm, but it wasn't good enough. The man finally wheeled, facing the door as the knob began to rattle and turn. She finally ducked under the desk to hide, covering her head as she heard the sound of the door bursting open, the sound of a firing gun, a leathery flapping, and a sickening thump. All the while she heard that horrible buzzing, like a swarm of angry hornets. It grew louder and louder with every second, until she was ready to scream and her head was about to burst.

"Having bad dreams again? You were muttering in your sleep."

An echo of buzzing in her skull, Cathy sat up in bed, looking over to see Adrian kneeling on the floor with a concerned look on his face. There was no sign of the old man, the dogs, or the flying creatures anywhere. She only saw a dimly lit room with sci-fi posters on Adrian's side and blank white on hers, recognizing it in a few seconds as their shared bedroom on the island. The two of them were alone in near-total darkness. The only sound she heard was Adrian's thin breathing.

"I think so." She saw his worried look deepen. "This one was even worse. Listen, Adrian, I'm okay, but I've got something important to ask you. This time I remember a few things. I was in a farmhouse with an old farmer and his dogs, and they were being attacked by these buzzing _things_. I have a couple of names, and I got a weird feeling, as if they were real people. Maybe you know who they are. If they're real, I have no idea what's going on in this crazy place." Cathy pulled her notebook out of her backpack, writing both of the names down, Akeley's first, and switching on a lamp by her bed. "Henry W. Akeley - I think he was the farmer - and Albert H. Wilmarth."

"Hm. Well, if Lesley hadn't blocked our Internet, I'd be able to look both of them up online. I don't know anything about either one. Sorry I can't help."

"The creepy thing was that I got the feeling I'd met him before, but that's impossible. It was only a dream, but it felt so _real_. Especially those buzzing things. I can't get that noise out of my head. It's like having a nest of cicadas in my skull."

"Yeah, you mentioned them. The buzzing things. Did you see what they looked like?" Adrian perked up. "I mean, seriously. Your dreams are way cooler than mine."

Cathy thought back, struggling to remember. She knew she saw them, but couldn't remember what they looked like, only the horrible buzzing. "Not much. I think they had wings, but that's it."

"Figures. You know what else? I've been thinking," Adrian said after a moment, "about that creature Greer has locked up in that big tank. You know, the one that he said hurt Lesley. You were lucky to see it. What did it look like? I wish I'd been there with you."

Cathy shook her head, trying to remember. "All I can say is that it was a good size, I'd guess about seven feet or so. What little I got to look at wasn't like any animal I've ever seen - there were wings, like the things in my dream, and something I think was a tail. I saw a plate calling it Specimen V-47, so that must be its name. The thing that bothered me the most about it is that I think it's smart."

"I doubt it. Greer told us it wasn't smart, and that's why working on it is ethical. That's probably why it hurt Lesley - it's mindlessly aggressive. People don't breed livestock for intelligence." Adrian didn't sound confident, though, and remembering the creature's eye kept Cathy from giving in.

"Being smart wouldn't stop it from attacking someone - in fact, if you ask me, it explains a lot. I'm sure you've heard stories about circus animals that snap and attack their trainers. Some people say it's because the small cages they're in drive them crazy. That tank he's keeping it in is much too small for something that big. It could barely breathe, let alone move. It's probably suffering horribly in there."

Adrian shrugged. "Maybe we should just tell Greer to put it in a bigger tank or something. If we make our case, he'll fix it. I mean, he needs it for some reason or he'd have it killed like Lesley wanted. It doesn't make any sense. If Greer and Lesley were torturing something, especially something smart, that would probably get this whole place shut down for animal cruelty. Greer's not a mad scientist. I mean, the testing labs I worked at back in college had _rules_ about this kind of thing. Ethics are sort of a big deal in genetic biology."

"That might be why he keeps it away from the mainland company, so people don't see it. I doubt his board of directors even knows about what's in that tank. I'm not saying Greer's a horrible animal abuser or something, I'm just saying that the creature could've attacked Lesley out of stress and Greer might have made it here because mainland rules don't apply." Cathy dug around behind the bed to find some regular clothes.

"Come on, the man wouldn't want his prize specimen to be sick. He knows what he's doing." Adrian wrung his fingers. "I'm sure if anyone's been doing anything really bad, it's Lesley. That's why he made all those stupid rules - to stop us finding him out. I'm sure Greer will deal with him if we tell him what Lesley's been up to. I still think we should go see him tomorrow and get him to answer our questions. Yours, too."

Cathy, looking up in the middle of digging through shirts, wasn't sure. She didn't like Lesley at all, and wouldn't put animal abuse past him, but something about Greer bothered her even more. Greer knew about the attack. Lesley hadn't kept it secret from him, at least. "I doubt that's the whole story. All I know is that, when I tried to get a closer look at it, it looked right at me. I'd even guess that it was trying to say something before Greer interrupted. Think about what happened to Sam. That wasn't her talking, and it wasn't any of us or Greer, either. The only other thing in the room was that creature."

Adrian shook his head, as if trying to take the story in. "I can buy that Greer's working on some sort of animal for a top-secret project, and even that he's up to something shady, but asking me to believe that it can control people somehow is asking too much. That's not even touching the weirdest stuff - that dream you told me about, for starters. Nothing makes any sense. Anyway, we can't do anything now. I mean, the lab door is locked by now, so we can hardly -"

"I want to find out what that thing is, and Greer's answer isn't enough. If he's making something dangerous here, people on the mainland have a right to know about it. I know you like him, but something about Teraton is seriously wrong. Ever since we got here something's stunk, and I have questions for Greer. Go find Heather in the next room over. It's better if we go to meet him as a group - Heather has something that can help us and we shouldn't leave Sam alone." She thought of Heather's phone. "Bring your laptop in case Greer puts the Internet back on. I'll wait in the hallway. Say it's an emergency if she doesn't want to come." Cathy sighed, seeing Adrian hesitate. "Look, if you're worried I'll bust Greer on my show, I won't, unless he's doing something really horrible. But we do need to know what's going on here."

Adrian finally nodded. "Okay, if you say so. Go get changed while I find Heather and Sam next door." He almost bolted out the door and into the hallway, still wearing his purple pajamas. Cathy would have laughed if her dream hadn't rattled her so badly.

After she pulled her shirt on, and fixed her pants, she came outside to find Heather standing Adrian, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Sammy was beside her, playing her video game again. Cathy guessed that Heather gave it to her to keep her distracted while they argued. Heather, as expected, went right for the throat.

"Okay, Miss Daniels, I don't care if you're famous. You've got a whole lot of explaining to do. Why did you wake us up at 3 o'clock in the morning? Some of us are trying to _sleep_!"

"Don't yell, Mom," Sam said. Heather's only response was a gruff "Stay out of this."

Adrian gestured for quiet with little success. "Let Cathy explain, ma'am. It didn't make much sense to me, either, but she thinks there's some funny business going on. Hear her out."

Heather snorted, but she let Cathy come forward. Cathy cleared her throat, but softly. "Everyone, be quiet. There's something wrong with this island. I don't know what it is, but ever since I got on that boat something's felt off. Everyone has those rasping voices. The people here are creepy as all hell, especially Lesley. Without our phones or Internet we have no way to get in touch with our friends or families. There is an animal in this building that maimed someone."

"I vote we see Mr. Greer." Adrian spoke up, standing next to Cathy. "He said he'd talk to Lesley about our stuff. Maybe he's still in his office if he works late. We can ask him about this while we're there."

"If you believe him," Heather replied, "I've got a bridge back home I'd like to sell you. Come on. He's Lesley's boss. If he wanted to give it back, he would have done it by now."

Adrian faced her, his voice harsh. "Why would he lie to us?"

"I'm not saying he is." Cathy came between the two, interrupting the argument. "I'm saying that we want him to answer a few of our questions on our terms. That, and I want to get a better look at the creature in his office. Adrian, you wanted to see it, too. If Greer isn't there, we'll find out what he's been up to."

"Cathy thinks it can talk," Adrian said. "Remember when Sam was acting all weird and couldn't remember what she said later? Cathy thinks that thing was... controlling Sam somehow."

Heather interrupted him, face red. "_What_? Hang on a moment. That thing did _what_ to Sammy? If it did anything at all to her, I swear I'll beat its ugly head to a pulp!"

"Come on, Mom." Sam tugged on her mother's sleeve. "Adrian says Mr. Greer will know what to do. We should see him."

Facing Cathy and Adrian, Heather groaned, seeing that she was outvoted. "Fine. We'll go to Greer's office if you say so. We'll tell the guards that this is your bad idea, not mine. However, if that monster of yours really can talk, it's got a lot of answering to do."


	6. Chimera

When Cathy and the others reached Greer's door, it was locked. Adrian tested the handle, but turned with a shrug when it didn't open.

"Well," Heather said, "I don't think he's here. That was a waste of time." Cathy agreed with her, but before she could say so she heard a voice. It made her jump, more because of the shock than because it was loud; it was barely more than a whisper, but with enough fear and pain in it to immediately grab her attention. It was distinctly male, older-sounding than anyone in the group, and pleading. Most bizarrely, the voice had a strong New England accent, stronger than Cathy's, with something dimly familiar about it. The sound of it gave her goosebumps, and she had no idea why.

_Help me! Please, for the love of God, someone help me! _

Cathy turned to face Heather and Adrian. Judging from the look of horror on their faces, they could hear it, too. "There's someone in there, and he must be hurt. I can hear him crying for help behind the door - we have to do something."

"Oh my God." Heather put her ear to the door. "You're right. Someone's _crying_ in there. A man, from the sound of it."

Adrian cringed. "Poor guy."

"Who are you?" she asked as she put her ear to the door, wondering who she had just heard. The voice didn't sound like Greer's or Lesley's - she didn't hear any rasping in it. "Are you all right in there? Can you hear me?"

_Yes, I can! I don't care who you are! Please, I beg you, open the door and help me!_

"Someone's definitely in there, and I think he's in pain," Cathy said as the voice went silent. "It didn't sound like Greer or Lesley, so it has to be one of the workers. We've got to pick the lock - I know it's all kinds of illegal, but we can't just leave someone inside with that thing. Greer will understand."

"That creature's in there, right?" Adrian looked up, terrified. "You think it attacked someone else? Shouldn't we find Lesley or something?"

"If we do, Greer will know we've been sneaking around. I still have my phone. I know it's against the rules, but I'm past caring." Cathy heard Heather dial a number, only to meet with dead silence. "Damn it, they even blocked emergency calls." Heather stuffed her phone back in her pocket. "You know what? No matter what you say, I _hope_ it's Lesley in there, 'cause if his freak show of a pet didn't kill him, _I_ _will_." She ducked into an open janitor's closet, coming back out armed with a crowbar. "Okay, Cathy, you take care of the lock. I've got a weapon in case that thing's running loose. Sammy, stay behind. It could be dangerous in here. Don't come in until I say it's all right."

Cathy managed to spring the lock using her credit card, quietly opening the laboratory's door. Even the dim light from before was out, leaving the laboratory almost pitch-black. She heard the gurgling of liquid and the dull hum of electricity as machinery worked. She didn't see anyone, hurt or otherwise, or hear any groans of pain. There was no sign of Greer himself, only his green bathrobe and trousers lying in the middle of his chair as if he threw them away. He must have changed and gone to his bedroom. She touched the discarded clothes, curious.

While she held the trousers, Cathy heard Adrian, worried, shout into the darkness. "Hey, Mr. Greer! Are you okay?"

"Shh!" Heather put a finger to her mouth. "You want them to catch us? We aren't even supposed to be here."

"His clothes are here, but Greer's gone. He's just too much of a slob to put his clothes away." Cathy dropped the bathrobe, getting up and leaning against something hard.

She realized with a start that she was beside the creature's tank. Since no one was there to see, they were free to get a closer look at Donald Greer's mysterious creation. She knew what to do next. Before Heather or Adrian could stop her, she pulled the cloth covering it away, revealing the creature inside to full view.

Specimen V-47 was a dull pink color, covered in a thick armored hide like an enormous insect, and with just as many legs. The general build of the creature could best be described as a mix between a dragon, a lobster, and a cockroach. Roughly seven feet tall hunched over, it would have been even larger standing at its full height, a short tail snaking behind it adding to its already formidable size. Two leathery wings were folded on its back, from the looks of them too small for the thing to fly even when they were fully extended. Cathy noticed that the first set of limbs seemed more developed than the others, each one ending in a five-clawed "hand", and the last two "feet" looked almost exactly like the track she had seen on the beach. The claws themselves were long, hooked, and sharp - it wasn't hard to imagine the creature ripping into someone.

The head, however, was the worst part. Instead of a mouth it had something between a fanged jaw and the savage mandibles of a huge insect. Besides the mass of writhing, glowing tendrils that covered its face, constantly changing color, its large black eyes still had that horrible sense of intelligence behind them. Cathy couldn't bring herself to look into them too deeply. Besides intelligence, she saw a mix of pain, misery, and fear that was disturbingly familiar. She felt more sure than ever that the creature was both sapient and suffering.

"That is the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my life." Heather looked away from the creature. "What is it?"

Specimen V-47's dark eye flickered to her, and Cathy heard the old New Englander's voice again, this time more annoyed than frightened. The man and the monster were one creature, even though its jaws didn't move as it spoke. Cathy realized that, somehow, the thing was talking to them telepathically. _Ms. Clevenger, in all due respect I must ask you not to use the word 'it'. I would prefer the term _he_. _Its tendrils began to glow a dull red.

"What the hell are you, then?" Heather looked Specimen V-47 directly in the eye. Specimen V-47 stared at her right back before cloaking its head under a wing. "Don't you turn away from me! And get out of my head!"

_If you want to _keep_ your head, I would suggest listening to me. _Cathy could hear its voice rise slightly.

"All right. You there, in the tank." As if it heard Adrian, the creature snapped its head up, turning to face him. "Cathy says you're smart. Prove it. No funny business or mind games. I want to see what you can do on your own. If you can hear me, tap once on the glass."

Cathy heard a deep sigh in her head, and the fierce red light from its tendrils went dull. Specimen V-47 tapped once on the glass of its tank with a single black claw. She could see Adrian's eyes light up as he came to the front. This was probably a dream come true for him. Here he was, talking to a real alien. Just what the hell was Greer running, anyway?

"You really are smart! I can't believe it, this is awesome! It understands us!" Cathy could have sworn she saw the thing roll its - his, the creature could hear her - eyes. The glowing tendrils turned a light red. "Okay, new rules. I'm going to ask you some questions. Easy ones, don't worry. Give me one tap for yes, two taps for no."

The creature yawned, showing sharp teeth._ I would love to play your games, Mr. Moran, but we have little time. I've humored you enough. I think it's time that you opened the tank and set me free. You have my word that I'll explain everything I can once you do. I am a prisoner here as much as the four of you are. _

"What are you talking about?" Heather asked. "We're guests, not prisoners. We aren't the ones sitting in a fish tank."

_ You're his _guests_? _Cathy heard a bitter laugh from the old New Englander._ That's what you think. You said I'm in a fish tank. You're in a gilded cage._

"Here's my first question." Heather glared at the creature from behind Adrian. "Will you eat us if we let you go? Second, how the _hell_ do you know our names? Third, what are you talking about?"

The old New Englander in Cathy's head gave a soft laugh, and judging from her shocked expression Heather could hear him, too. _Eat you? No, I promise that I will not eat you. I haven't sunk that low. As for how I know your names, I've spent the past day or so in your heads. We have more in common than you think. Ms. Daniels, I'll let you handle this. Find something to break my tank so I can leave. Ms. Clevenger's crowbar should fit that purpose nicely. _

"Heather, I need that crowbar. We have to help him. Greer's been torturing him or something - you heard him crying. Besides, he says he can tell us what's going on. I want answers and I don't care who they're from. Greer and Lesley were lying to us. You know that."

"Just 'cause they were lying doesn't mean it's telling the truth." Heather faced Cathy, still glaring. "You're going to set that monster loose? It's a trick. I know it is - once we let it go, it'll kill us."

"It's not a monster," Adrian said, standing between them. "We've got a lot of things to ask - what it is, why Greer made it, why it needs our help. Why would it want to hurt us? I mean, it sounded like it was in pain a while ago. It's hardly on Lesley's side if it hurt him. I vote we give the poor thing a chance. It looks really miserable in there."

Heather shrugged, moving away from the tank and reflexively clutching the crowbar. "We all saw what it did to Lesley. This _thing_ is _dangerous_. I know Lesley isn't a nice guy at all and he deserves what he got, but letting a dangerous and possibly insane animal loose is hardly-"

"For all we know, it attacked Lesley for a good reason. We can all agree Lesley's a creep. I would not put animal abuse past him. Maybe Lesley was hurting him and he lashed out. I mean, he's clearly got human intelligence and he's being kept in a cage like a lab rat. I will not let him suffer any more." Cathy gestured for the bar. "Everyone, stand back. I'm going to let him out."

"If you really think so." Heather sighed, outvoted. She reluctantly handed the crowbar over to Cathy. "Let me stand by the door, so I can get Sam to safety if that thing attacks us. Just be careful. I don't trust things that I can't see talking. Come here, Adrian." Adrian shook his head, staying with Cathy.

"Are you serious? I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Turning away as Heather stepped back, Cathy took the crowbar to the top of the creature's tank, shattering it and allowing him to stand. Horrible-smelling green liquid pooled on the floor. Wriggling out of the wreckage, Specimen V-47 gave a rattling sigh and fell on all eight limbs, spreading his leathery, membranous wings out to their full four-foot breadth. Fully extended, they looked like a pair of solar sails sticking out of his back. Yellow saliva dripped from between his fangs as he breathed; judging from his chest's labored movements, he had breathing trouble. Cathy felt pity rather than fear as she watched him switch to standing on his hind set of legs. His wings folded up again as he turned, facing Cathy and the others. Adrian gazed on in wonder and fear. She hadn't realized how huge the thing was, and the wings made him look even larger.

_Ah, much better! Thank you, my dear lady; that was most kind. It was horribly cramped in there, and I'd lost track of time. I couldn't have stood it for very much longer._ Specimen V-47 gave what was unmistakably his attempt at a bow. _I'm afraid I was beginning to go mad. _

"All right, you're out. A deal's a deal," Adrian said, voice trembling. "As you promised, we've got a few questions to ask. Who are you?"

_All in good time, Mr. Moran. Now that I am a free man again, allow me to introduce myself properly._ Despite clear evidence that the two were the same creature, it was hard to attach the measured, quiet voice of the old New Englander to the horrible-looking creature. It gestured to the plaque with its tail._ The plate under my tank calls me Specimen V-47, although that isn't my real name, just as I didn't always look like this. Despite my appearance, I was once every bit as human as you four are. My name as a human being was Henry Wentworth Akeley._

"Henry W. Akeley, huh?" Cathy recognized the name in an instant as the old farmer from her dream, and suddenly realized why he felt familiar. She did see something of the farmer's determination in the creature, and on a closer listen the voice was identical to the one she had heard. "This doesn't make any sense. You've got to be dead. I mean, I saw you - Akeley - in my dreams, and those creatures killed him. That's assuming you even are who you say you are. How could something like you be human?"

_As I said, I didn't always look like this. I know this is a lot to take in, but I was _made_ like this. I am the product of, using your terms, genetic engineering and splicing, although centuries beyond what we humans are capable of. There's nothing "natural" about my creation._

"So, Mister, um, Akeley, I guess you're some sort of Frankenstein's monster. Do you know what I mean?" Adrian was visibly shaking, either from fear or excitement or probably both.

_I am familiar with the works of Mary Shelley, yes. It is not an entirely inaccurate comparison._

"Got it." Adrian nodded. "Mr. Greer told us you were grown in a lab somehow. You're amazing. Whatever was done to create you must've been some pretty top-level science. I mean, you're the most complex transgenic organism that's ever been made, and no one's ever created anything smart before. 'Course, this is also pretty illegal. No wonder Greer didn't want this getting out."

_I'm afraid that wasn't Donald Greer talking to you. It never was. This island has been run for the past few months by a race of alien beings known as the Outer Ones, masters of surgery and what you call genetic engineering. The real Donald Greer is beyond any of our help - the one you met is one of them. You should be worried about yourselves first. The Outer Ones set this island up as a trap. I don't know what they want, but I am sure that it involves you. Somewhere on this island are new, empty bodies grown from my cells, I assume for fresh brains. You need to leave, and soon._

"Wait. " Adrian held up a hand. "You're saying that aliens took him? Is he dead or held prisoner or what? Are we even going to try and save him?"

_I'm afraid we can't. I believe I met him in my storage chamber before I was implanted in this body, and all I can remember about him is his fear. I will show you more evidence, if you would like._

"You said you're from Vermont, like me. Maine isn't too far away - did they catch him there?" Adrian covered his eyes. "God, this is terrible. No wonder he's been refusing to see people - he doesn't want the media to find out he's a fake!"

"If Akeley's right, though," Cathy said, cutting him off, "and I'm not waiting to see if he is, we'd better get out of here as soon as possible. Steal a boat or something. I doubt the _Hydra_'s still moored, but maybe they have a smaller one."

_I doubt it. They don't want you getting off. I told you, this is a trap. They didn't get here by sea._

Hearher joined Cathy. "Then we can fix the Internet or get our phones working. We're not giving up, Akeley. I don't care if it's a trap. We're getting off this island and you can do whatever you want. You're free now. You can come with us or go live in the jungle or something."

Adrian confronted her, face pale. "_What_? We can't just leave Mr. Greer alone if he's being held prisoner by these things. We've got to save him. I'm not leaving anyone behind. He's gotta be on this island somewhere."

"You heard Akeley," Cathy said, irritated but trying to sound understanding. Adrian was obviously scared. "We can't help him. Anyway, we need to look out for ourselves first. There's clearly some seriously shady stuff going on here and I, for one, want out."

Akeley rustled his wings in a shrug. _You admire Greer very much, and I'm sorry that I cannot help either of you. As for proof of that, if you would like to see evidence I can show it to you on the way out. This is only Greer's personal laboratory, not his study. What I will show you there isn't for the faint of heart, as a warning._

"I should have known something was up," Cathy told Adrian. "Greer was lying through his teeth through that whole conversation. Whoever did this to Akeley is vivisecting humans, and we don't want whatever happened to Greer to happen to us, too. Akeley may not be telling the whole truth, either, but what he said means we need to get off this island now. I am not taking any risks, and I'm not leaving you behind, either. We stay together."

_I can guide you through the forest. If we get a plan of the island, we can see if there's a way to call for a boat. It's better if we leave without making too much of a fuss. _

Cathy blinked, surprised. "Seriously? You said there are evil aliens or at least mad scientists here! They tortured you, for God's sake! Shouldn't we call the National Guard, or the Navy, or someone who can deal with this? I'm famous on the mainland. People will listen to me. Help me off and I can have this horrible place nuked from orbit."

_Calling our military to fight the Outer Ones would start a war that we couldn't win. I speak for our species there. Even I have been careful not to provoke them - the most I did to interfere directly was taking control of Ms. Clevenger's daughter, and that was only because I lost control over my emotions. Seeing what that fake Greer was doing triggered a bad memory. I had to act._

"So Cathy was right. It _was_ you." Heather almost rushed Akeley, but stopped herself when she realized she was unarmed. She grabbed the crowbar from Cathy, brandishing it in front of him. He only opened his mouth, showing his fangs, and Heather stared down a deep black gullet. His mind-voice was more apologetic than threatening, however. He bowed before Heather as he did for Cathy.

_I did not want to hurt your daughter, and I apologize for frightening you. Now that I am able to talk directly, such measures will no longer be needed. However, I only wanted to get you away from Lesley and Greer. I am _not_ the one you should be angry at. _He scuttled closer to the door, surprisingly fast considering his size.

"You said that there's a human brain inside you." Adrian shuddered. "What else are you made of? I mean, there's no bug on earth that gets as big as you are. Not even prehistoric ones."

_Think less bug and more fungus, and you'll be on the right track about what I am. This body is only a shell. They used many brains that they stored over the centuries, mostly humans, but most of the test subjects became unstable and died soon after transfer into this host body. I was the only survivor from my testing unit. However, they didn't anticipate me having the will to keep control. They thought all traces of the man Henry Akeley had been wiped out, with only an empty slate left. I was more cunning than they gave me credit for._ Cathy could hear a hint of pride in Akeley's voice, and he stood a little straighter.

"That is really messed up," Cathy said. "If you're telling the truth, thank you for the warning. As for me, I'm going to keep my brain, thank you very much. Come with us if you want. We're leaving, and we need all the help we can get. Just stay out of our heads. Can't you just talk to us with your regular voice? The telepathy thing is seriously creeping everyone out."

"Count me in," Heather said, stand beside Cathy. "I didn't come here for this. Sammy and I are going home. Adrian, come on."

"I'll come, too," Adrian said. "I'm really sorry about Mr. Greer. I can't believe we can't help him. There's gotta be something we an do. It isn't right to leave him."

Once Adrian went quiet, Akeley spoke._ This body was not equipped with the machinery I need to speak. The Outer Ones don't want me talking, and they don't know that I discovered another way. Because they used their own material to make me, I inherited a few of their abilities, if weakened. My telepathy is one of them._ _Ms. Daniels, I established a psychic link with you as your boat approached the island. When you slept, I fed you my memories to try and warn you about the dangers here. Besides that, I gave all of you psychic nudges when I felt they were needed - Ms. Daniels, I guided you into the office and helped you find the footprint on the beach. Mrs. Clevenger, you remembered your phone without my help. I commend you for that._

Heather snorted. "Thanks a lot, bug face. You're a creeper in more ways than one."

Cathy just shivered at the thought of a stranger, even a well-meaning one, invading her brain. "That explains a lot, Mr. Akeley. If we weren't trapped on an island with a bunch of mad scientist aliens that want to do horrible things to us, I'd be angry with you. But I just want to get out of here, and I don't care how. If you can help, fine. But I'm leaving and calling the National Guard once I fix the wireless, unless there's a damn good reason not to. How about you?"

_I feel things I haven't felt in years - hunger, pain, thirst. I can't survive in this facility. I'll need to go outside to hunt for food and find water. I haven't had a scrap of solid food in my stomach for almost a century, and my throat's parched. I didn't remember I _had_ a stomach until it started cramping up. That was one advantage of being a brain in a jar, I suppose._

"Just make sure _we_ aren't on your menu. I don't care who or what you are, if you touch Sammy again I'll end you, hear?" Akeley gave a whirring buzz, as if he was impressed by Heather's willingness to face him. Cathy was, too - whatever else he claimed to be, Akeley was a mutated insect-creature the size of a bear that could easily eviscerate Heather if he had half a mind to. She looked small beside him, even wielding the crowbar like a sword.

_I understand your concern for your daughter. I was a parent myself. Your courage is admirable. However, I am not your enemy. I hate the Outer Ones. They took me apart and put me back together wrong like a broken toy. They locked me in a cage like an animal. Besides, I've outlived my purpose as far as they're concerned. Now that they have my cells, they want to put me down after what I did to Lesley. But I'm not ready to die. _The soothing blue changed to a vivid blood-red, and the voice in Cathy's head turned into a fierce hiss. _Not yet. Not until I pay them back for what they did._

Cathy folded her arms as the red light dulled. "Well, count me out on that. I'm willing to team up at least until we reach the forest or at most when we either find a way off or make contact with the mainland. If you still want to fight these things, we split up there. I'm not taking any risks. We just want to survive. Picking a fight with them won't help us, as you said."

_Fair enough. All the same, we have a mutual enemy. Although I am not used to working with other people, I suggest that we work together for at least a short time, as you said. I will show you what happened to Mr. Greer, and perhaps coming with you will help me remember my humanity. If you refuse, and I will not blame you if you do, I will retreat into the rainforest to sabotage their efforts alone. _Akeley offered Cathy a leathery claw. _So, Ms. Daniels, do we have a deal?_

Cathy hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. While she was sympathetic if his story was true, she didn't entirely trust or like him after his getting into her brain. Like it or not, though, they had little choice but to work with him. He was the only one with any idea of what they were up against and at the very least they needed any allies they could get. "All right, Mr. Akeley, we've got a deal."


End file.
